


Cancer

by nieliegen



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Cancer, Death, Established Relationship, I'm so sorry, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, did I mention that?, in case you didn't see, this is kind of really dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nieliegen/pseuds/nieliegen
Summary: Based off the TOP cover of "Cancer".
Relationships: Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Cancer

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry. This is the most depressing thing I ever wrote but I've been listening to this cover on repeat for a week and it just sparked the idea and I couldn't get rid of it.
> 
> MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH--it is one of the boys.
> 
> Please forgive me.

_I will not kiss you 'cause the hardest part of this is leaving you_

||-//

The room is quiet and dark, curtains pulled completely shut with the bedside lamp being the only light illuminating the figure under white and grey blankets. Thin, pale, defeated. The body barely moving except the steady rise and fall of a chest and the occasional twitch of a finger or foot. The room smells like chemicals; cleaned and free from any fragrance except bleach. It’s warm to the point of near suffocation but it has to be, the body under those blankets is too frail and the skin too thin for the room to be anything except scorching.

Josh sucks in a wavered breath, tears stinging his eyes as he finds the pale and sunken face peaking out from the top of the blankets. Eyes closed and bruised, hair gone, and lips chapped and cracked; the pink flush that was once high on cheekbones and the pink tinge in lips long gone. Josh’s heart thumps at the fact that he’ll never get to see that particular colour ever again. Watching the man lying there, Josh lets his tears fall knowing he can’t see, doesn’t know Josh is there yet.

Josh places the bouquet of flowers on the table at the end of the bed, bright and colourful and fragrant; it livens up the room but does nothing to liven Josh’s insides. He can feel his heart in his throat, and he can taste metal as he chews the skin off his bottom lips; his almost as cracked as the other’s.

“Tyler,” Josh whispers, it comes out wet and gloomy, he wipes his face with his sleeve and goes to the chair next to the bed. Tyler stirs but doesn’t wake—exhausted likely, from the chemo and radiation. His skin looks almost warm, with the bedside lamp casting a yellow/orange glow over his features but Josh can see the sheen of sweat, the grey-tinged skin pulled tight around his delicate features. The discolouration around his eyes harsh against the white paleness.

Josh leans into the bed but he doesn’t touch, not yet. He can’t bring himself to feel the coolness of Tyler’s skin, how it already feels lost to him, that warmth that once was long forgotten in favour of cool dread. With his face buried in the blanket, the hospital smell is much more potent, and he inhales deeply, praying that under the bleach and antiseptic, he’ll smell Tyler.

But he doesn’t. He never does and he keeps praying though he isn’t sure why anymore; he gave up believing the minute Tyler got home from the hospital nearly a year ago with the diagnosis. Josh has inhaled this smell every day for the entire ten months Tyler has been confined here. Treatment, early detection, chemo, radiation—all words that mean nothing now. Not as Tyler lays here, slowly disappearing into dust and bones before his very eyes. Not as he cries when he sleeps, whimpers when he moves too quickly and his bones creak inside of him. Not as he grips Josh’s hands weakly and tries to smile. Not when he croaks out that _it’ll be okay_ , that _everything is fine_ , _I’m fine_.

“Josh,” it’s barely even a whisper, just weak lips mouthing out the word, breathing it like it’s the only one he knows. Josh’s heart breaks for the millionth time but he savours the sound, not knowing when it’ll be the last time he hears it. Josh looks up to meet brown eyes that were once bright and full of life; they stare sad and empty at him now, the colour dull and faded.

“Hey, you.” Josh tries to smile without crying and it works for all of ten seconds before a lump forms right behind his adam’s apple. He reaches out to grab Tyler’s hand and ignores the way Tyler barely twitches, barely reacts because his body is so weak.

“How—how long was I out?” Tyler speaks but it sounds like he’s running a marathon, the words barely pushing past his white lips and his face contorts in pain as he heaves in a deep breath from the exertion.

“Just a few hours.” Josh is lying and Tyler knows but he accepts the answer anyway; in fact, Tyler was out for nearly twenty-four hours this time. The doctor had said not to worry but the look in her eyes betrayed her calm voice and Josh knew. Tyler was fading.

“I brought flowers, I thought maybe it would brighten up the place since I know having the curtains open is hard for you. Red carnations and red roses.” Josh nods to the flowers at the edge of the bed and Tyler slowly moves his eyes down, taking in the bright reds of the petals and the vibrant green of the stems. His lips barely twitch up and Josh commits it to memory. It might not be the wide goofy grin he’s used to, but he’ll remember it just the same. That tiny bit of happiness in all this grey.

‘Thank you,’ Tyler’s voice doesn’t make it past his lips, but Josh knows the movements of his mouth better than anyone.

“I also saw your mom and dad today, they wanted me to say hi and let you know they’re gonna come visit tonight for a bit. Zack, Maddy and Jay are coming tomorrow morning. We don’t want to overwhelm you with too many people; I know it’s hard for you right now.” Josh talks to talk because he knows Tyler needs it, he needs it too.

“I wish I could bring Jim in; he misses you a lot. I might try sneaking him in one night because I can’t handle the look he gives me when Jordan brings him to visit at the park outside and you’re not with me. I always knew he loved you more, but it still hurts.” Josh feigns hurt and laughs when Tyler’s eyes burst with a flash of a smile his lips are too weak to form.

“My mom wants to come visit, too. She talks about you so much and she’s always on my ass making sure I’m eating and sleeping but—” Josh pauses and Tyler barely squeezes his hand as his eyes fill with tears again. “It’s really hard, Ty.” Josh uses his free hand to rub at his face. “I know everyone just wants to help but fuck, I wish they wouldn’t. I know that sounds so selfish of me to complain about having that support to deal with everything while you’re here, living it. I just—”

Tyler grunts softly and Josh looks up to meet his eyes, ‘not selfish. I love you.’ He mouths and a sob rips out of Josh’s chest; Tyler turns into a blurred image of white and grey and it wrecks Josh to think about those words and how he hasn’t been able to say them back in so long.

“Me too.” Josh says weakly, his voice cracked and exhausted and if Tyler could still cry, he’d be a mess right now. “I’m sorry, I know this doesn’t help when I’m—when everything is, you know. Um, Jordan met this girl and she’s really sweet. I’m happy for him, he’s been in such a funk and she brings him out which he needs.” Josh continues to talk about his family and Tyler’s and Jim and life outside of this depressing room; it’s not like Josh takes a lot of time away but when Tyler’s checked out, mentally and physically, it’s the best time for him to change and shower and reassure his mother he is eating, even if he isn’t.

Josh talks for hours until Tyler is sleeping again, restlessly shifting against the sheets and shivering when they fall too low. Josh fixes everything so he’s comfortable and watches him.

Josh hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in ten months, hasn’t eaten a decent meal in just as long and hasn’t left the hospital for more than a couple hours in those ten months. He’s on a first-name basis with almost everyone in this ward, including the janitors and night auditors. Some of the other families too, the ones here for the same reason he is. He’s cried with mothers who lost children, with husbands who lost wives. He’s cried for Tyler and for himself and for Tyler’s family.

Josh has cried almost every day for ten months, sometimes in front of Tyler but mostly when he’s asleep or Josh is alone and no one can hear him gasp for breath as everything good leaves his body, as memories burst behind his eyes of touring and laughter and late night confessions. His heart breaks when he remembers warm skin on warm skin, soft lips and calloused hands searching and grasping.

He thinks about that night, when Tyler collapsed in their apartment and Josh felt his entire body give out when the ambulance carried Tyler away. He remembers the ringing in his ears when the doctor said that word, when she mentioned treatments and how lucky they are to have caught it so early. He remembers, distinctly, the word remission.

Josh remembers Tyler’s second fall even better because it turned everything on its head. That fall turned remission into six months and then three months and then four weeks. He doesn’t remember how it happened though, he was cooking dinner when Tyler crashed in the living room, his weak body covered in purple bruises and his face pinched in pain as he sobbed and clung to Josh and _begged_ him to make it stop. That fall resulted in the detection of two more tumors and Josh knew what that meant.

He hates it here. He hates how they won’t let Tyler have anything in the room, no artwork or gifts from the fans, even the flowers Josh brings get thrown out every night. The doctor explained it as keeping foreign objects that could pose a threat to Tyler’s health but what does it matter if he’s dying anyway? What could it hurt, to have reminders of his life? Beautiful portraits of himself drawn by dedicated fans and stuffed bears and flowers.

Josh thought about stealing him away, when they told him Tyler only had a month to live, Josh seriously contemplated taking him out of here and driving up to their spot, where they could gaze at the stars and watch the sunrise together. He thought about driving Tyler to all the places he never got to see, to do all the things he never got to do but Josh knows if he doesn’t have machines and needles to keep him going then he’d die faster.

Tyler asked him to steal him away; begged Josh to unplug the cords and take the needles out and carry him to their car. Cried for him to end his suffering on more than one desperate, pain-fueled night. Josh almost did but he couldn’t. Tyler understood.

Josh used to sleep in the bed with Tyler but the nurses threatened to kick him out for good if he kept it up, he’s not sure if they would have actually done it but they reasoned he could disconnect Tyler’s machines and kill him so he stopped. Tyler used to kiss his head and his face and tell him every day he loved him but now he’s too tired and too weak, so he just mouths that he loves him. Josh hasn’t kissed Tyler in five months.

Josh wishes he could go with him, that when Tyler finally goes and closes his eyes for the last time, Josh will be lifted out of his body and together their spirits will ascend. Josh is scared of dying but he’s even more scared of living without Tyler. He never tells Tyler this because he knows how scared Tyler is of leaving.

Tyler’s parents visit around 8pm but Tyler is still sleeping; his mom cries and kisses his forehead and squeezes his knee. Chris tries to stay composed but even his face breaks at the sight of his eldest son. Josh turns to look out the window and give them privacy without having to leave. He ignores his own tears that spill down his cheeks and stain the collar of his shirt wet and uncomfortable.

“Josh?” Kelly comes up behind him and pulls him in for a hug, he’s thankful for the touch but it all feels like too much. “Thank you for taking care of him and being here; I—I would but it’s so hard and I—don’t want to make it worse for him.” Josh nods, he understands, and gives her a kiss on the top of her head.

“I won’t leave him.” His resolve is strong and he’s grateful for that because he may have killed himself by now.

Chris gives him a hug as well before they depart and then it’s just a sleeping Tyler and him. The machines whir and buzz and the bedside lamp flickers briefly. Josh stares at Tyler and he looks at peace if you squint; Josh knows when he’s sleeping, he gets some escape from the pain and exhaustion this illness has brought on him, but Josh also knows it can only hide so much.

Josh watches Tyler twist in his sleep, listens to his laboured breaths and sighs, hears the heart monitor beeping and it brings tears to his eyes again. Josh wishes he could steal all the pain away, just to grab Tyler’s hand and transfer it all to himself. Josh shifts back to the chair next to the bed and grips Tyler’s hand, gentle as he can while still trying to anchor himself to the feeling of Tyler’s skin.

“Ty…” Josh starts but his voice catches and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, I just—I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you; I can’t say it when you’re awake because I can’t handle putting this on you because it’s—it’s not fair. None of this is fair, like, you are so good, and you didn’t deserve any of this. We still have so much to do together and knowing we won’t be able to rips me apart inside, like, mentally I feel like I’m dying with you and I don’t know if I’ll make it through. We won’t ever be married, no kids or playdates or late-night feedings. No suburban house with a white picket fence. I won’t get to see you grow old and grey, won’t be able to do it with you. We were—we promised we’d do this until we’re seventy with back problems and bad knees. I can’t even—I can’t even listen to our music anymore because it reminds me that you’ll never sing another song, never come to me in the middle of the night with your laptop and headphones and excitement in your eyes.” Josh pauses and breathes deeply, inhaling as much oxygen as his lungs can handle before shakily letting it out.

“I’ll never be able to tell you I love you and kiss you whenever I want; I’ll never get to hold you again and I can’t handle that. Life without you isn’t a life I want, Ty, I don’t want to be here when you’re not.” Josh lets out a wet sob and lets his head fall to the bed next to their joined hands. Josh is exhausted and thinking about moving on and living without Tyler in this world with him seems impossible.

“Implausible,” Tyler croaks from above him and Josh’s head shoots up, unaware he said the last part of this thought out loud. A smile forces his lips upwards as he meets Tyler’s eyes, his heart heavy in his chest and beating slow and hard.

“I’m sorry, I—I didn’t want you to hear all that.” Josh kisses Tyler’s knuckles and sighs into his cold fingers.

“It’s okay, it’s hard for you too, I know. I wish—I wanted all of that too, y’know? With you.” Tyler’s voice is hoarse, and Josh can see how painful it is for him to talk, his throat dried up and lips cracked; Josh reaches over to grab the cup of water on the bedside table.

“Drink,” he instructs as he presses the lip to Tyler’s mouth, he gives a small smile before parting his lips to let the liquid in. “I know, Ty. We had big plans.” Josh tries to smile back but his face won’t cooperate.

“I want you—I want you to promise me you won’t give up though, not on this life you could have, on a love that could be even greater.” Tyler swallows hard and sucks in a long breath.

Josh chews at his lip because he knows he can’t lie, and he knows he can’t make that promise; he shakes his head and rubs his eyes aggressively. “I—”

“You will. You’re too good not to and the world needs you in it.” Tyler tries to reach out, but his arm falls limply to the bed, he’s much too weak to hold it up.

“Okay,” Josh settles on and leans forward to kiss Tyler on the forehead. “I promise.” They both know it’s an impossible thing to promise but it settles heavy in their chests and brings some peace to their hearts.

“I feel light, J, I feel different. Like everything is—gonna be okay.” Tyler has a far away look in his eyes that makes Josh's heart pick up pace and cold sweat envelopes his body; he stands and touches every part of Tyler’s face, pulling him so they’re face to face.

“Hey, Ty, look at me.” Josh tries to meet his eyes but they’re wild and unfocused and dread pools in the pit of his stomach. “Please, I need you to look at me.” Tyler swallows and blinks slowly before trying to hold Josh’s gaze, Josh’s heart drops at the way they’re glazing over, his pupils dilate, and all the air is knocked from Josh.

“Kiss me.” Tyler whispers, his breathing heavy and irregular as he fights to keep his eyes open.

Josh shakes his head, “no, no this isn’t—Tyler—” Tyler blinks slowly and wets his chapped lips.

“I know—I said I wouldn’t, but I can’t—I can’t go without—” Josh kisses him hard, pushing himself into Tyler’s body and holding on as tightly as he can manage without breaking anything. He kisses him through his tears, wetness transferring from his face to Tyler’s and saltiness stinging the cracks in his own lips.

Josh kisses Tyler until he feels him go limp in his arms, his mouth slack and open as his eyelids finally slip closed. Josh stays with his forehead pressed against Tyler’s, breathing in harshly and holding back sobs. He lets go of Tyler’s head and it falls back against the stark white pillowcase, his face pale even in the lamplight and his features relaxed, mouth open slightly.

Josh isn’t sure how long he stares at Tyler’s face, hands fisted in the blankets before nurses are pulling him away and he finally hears the flatline of the heart monitor next to the bed. Everything is a white and grey blur with people moving him and checking Tyler, pulling at the needles and feeling for a pulse and then looking at him with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” one of the nurses murmurs as he watches her turn the heart monitor off and pulls the needles out of Tyler’s arms. Josh stares at the shell of a man lying on the bed, finally looking to be at peace and that’s when his legs give out. No one is fast enough to catch him and his knees crack as they hit the concrete ground below; the pain is nothing compared to the pain ripping apart his insides, pulling the tendons in his heart and shredding it into a bloody mess. He can’t breathe, not sure if he’s been breathing this whole time as his head feels light and fuzzy.

“Josh, I need you to look at me.” The nurse is shining a light at his face but his eyes won’t focus, his brain feels like it’s shutting down and his body feels heavier than lead. He can feel himself shaking, can feel the wetness on his face but he can’t feel oxygen in his lungs or a beat in his heart.

Everything goes black.

||-//

The room is quiet and windowless, only lit with ugly florescent bulbs that shine and contrast against the skin of the man lying beside him. Thin, make-up covered, cold. His body completely still and unmoving as Josh places a shaky hand on his chest. The room smells like stale death and it causes a shiver to run down Josh’s spine. It’s cold to the point of needing a jacket but the air is suffocating him.

Josh can’t speak, hasn’t spoke for the past week as Tyler’s family arranged everything and if not for his own mother he probably wouldn’t be sitting here, hands fisted against a blue and purple and white mickey mouse shirt. Tyler’s request to be buried in it.

Josh bites his lips as he takes in Tyler’s made-up face, eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, the wig perfectly mused and fluffed. His fingers cold and interlaced across his stomach.

Josh wishes he could see his eyes and his smile one last time.

Josh leans over and presses a kiss to Tyler’s forehead and stands next to the coffin.

“I love you.” He whispers, hoping that Tyler can hear him from above.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I am sorry. Not edited so plz let me know all my mistakes.


End file.
